Linebacker’s Second Chance(104)
“No need to get bent out of shape, Eliza,” I say, stifling a yawn. But Eliza keeps on growling, her ears perking up like she hears something strange. “It’s probably just the horse guy. Rowan cleared the road enough for him to get through, and the highways should be fine--“
Eliza gets up and slinks toward the door. I get up and follow her, my heart beating harder than it should. Because it probably is just one of the workers that come to Rowan’s house. It’s probably just that. But I hear Rowan’s voice rumbling on, rising and falling in angry, frustrated tones. By the time I reach the front door, Eliza is barking angrily, and I can see Rowan moving his hands in broad gestures through the glass of the front door.
And as I stand there in my paint stained jeans and the purple tunic I wore when I came here, I can see the person Rowan is talking to. There’s a care parked by the path that leads up to the door, despite the ice that still sits on the ground.
It’s not one of Rowan’s staff. It’s not Star or any one of his friends from the Foundation. No, the woman that Rowan is talking to is long and lanky, and skinny as a rail. She’s wearing an impractical but sleek leather jacket, jeans that probably cost $500, and her hair falls in perfect blond waves over her shoulders. I’ve never seen a picture before, but I don’t need to see one to know that this is Joanna, the woman that held Rowan down for two years, promising him marriage and a family, and hurting him at every turn.
The worst part of my brain speaks to me as soon as I see her cold green eyes staring at Rowan.
That’s the kind of woman that belongs with a man like this. Or the kind that everyone thinks should be with him anyway. And if you’re with him, people will think that every time they see the two of you together. They’ll remember Joanna, how she looks the part.
“Bullshit,” I mutter, fighting back against the negativity, against the pain and regret that has filled my life for so long. “But why the fuck is she here?”
With renewed purpose, I grab Eliza by her collar and drag her back to Rowan’s office. And then I march myself, worn out jeans and all, to the door, pulling it open and standing there behind Rowan, hands on my hips. Rowan turns around to me, and immediately, I see the pain written all over his face.
“Cadence, this is Joanna. And she was just leaving back on the asshole horse she rode in on.”
“This must be Cadence,” Joanna says, hissing the last syllable of my name. “Well, it looks like you haven’t changed out of your pajamas. I heard you were leaving soon, and I just thought I’d come and stay with Rowan for a few days before your departure.” One perfectly arched eyebrow raises, and she smirks at me. All the fury, all the rage--it’s suddenly knocked out of me. I wish I could channel Anna and her instant ability to go from zero to bitch in two seconds flat, but I’m left standing there, facing a woman who looks like a model, a woman who knows my name, my schedule, and probably more than that, given the sneer on her face.
“How do you—” I turn to Rowan, my hands shaking in the cold. “How does she—”
“I have my ways,” Joanna said. “I thought Rowan might be needing a little relief with his rebound leaving in a few days. And I’d been thinking about how very much I miss you, dear Rowan.”
“Get the hell out of here, Joanna,” he growls. But she brings a hand up and catches his wrist, running her fingers over the bare skin there. The gesture almost brings me to my knees, jealousy wrenching my gut.
“I can’t really,” she spits back. “My car’s broken down, and I need you, Rowan. I’ve been dreaming about the two of us together, starting a family...” Her voice trails off, and she glances at me, her eyes cold. The iciness of her stare hits me in the gut. She’s come back to offer Rowan exactly what he wanted from her—a real relationship, a family. He’s not the type to fall for it, and he’ll assure me that he isn’t, over and over again, on this now ruined Christmas.
He doesn’t understand it. She’s not back to hurt him, not back to get at him. She’s back to undo me. I’ve known women like her all my life—I’m from New York. And she’d know, if she figured anything out about my history, anything out about my life, that I’m not ready to fight her. That I don’t have it in me.
What she doesn’t know—what she can’t know—is that I’ve already won.
“Well Joanna,” I say. “I’m so sorry your car has broken down. If it actually has, I’ll be surprised. But it doesn’t look like you’re planning on leaving.” Her mouth drops open, and Rowan turns to stare at me. “Rowan’s had the guest house fixed up, and you’ll be staying out there. I’m sure he can call in his porter to take your shit out there.”